made up love song
by vivafiction
Summary: messy, clumsy, imaginative teenage love, the only way korra knows how to do it -— korra & mako. s1, endgame.


**title** — made up love song  
**pairing** — korra & mako  
**warnings** — slightly sexual situations and dorks  
**etc** — i never thought i'd be writing makorra, but it is **kayla's** birthday, so why not

…

**i was difficult to see but you picked me  
**the two of us, a crooked fit  
…

"How did you love me through this?" It's a temporary moment of clarity, of maturity as she leans her back against Mako's chest. The last six months had been exhausting, tugging at parts of herself until even her skeleton seemed to creak with strain these days.

Mako is an intermission in her life. A kiss from him can halt the onslaught of heavy thoughts, and being wedged between his thighs with his arms around her can pause her thoughts until she forgets what kind of pressure sits on her shoulders. It _should_ be over, but Korra knows the world is still fractured, and she yearns to stitch it back together and fulfill her duty as the Avatar.

Mako's arms tighten around her and all of these thoughts melt away. Maybe it's childish to let romance blind her, but she is seventeen and _in love_ (and she falls in love the way she does everything else, with a heart bursting confidence at the seams and with white-lightning speed and with no regrets), so she burrows further back into his grip.

"It was hard _not_ to love you through all of that," he chips in with a laugh in his voice, trapped in his throat, and she knows that he's smiling into her hair. Something scratches in her chest, the thickness of knots slipping into her throat that comes with tears, because it was hard for her to love _herself_ through all of that.

But she smiles and closes her eyes, focuses on the sensation of warmth in Mako's embrace.

…

**are we living in a dream world?**  
this was not an illusion  
…

She bounces along the tips of her toes, shifting over the stones of Air Temple Island's courtyard, fists held aloft in a mock fighting position. Korra is _supposed_ to be meditating, but she takes advantage of the fact that Tenzin is wrapped up in the sight of his newest child, so she sneaks out of the temple and into the sun with Mako.

(He had tried to tempt her into meditation, but she had crawled into his lap and prodded at his cheekbones until he caved, letting her pull him along the pavement until they were in the center of the courtyard.)

"I could show you a thing or two," she calls back, still dancing on her feet, jabbing a fist out in his direction.

He laughs.

"What! I'm the Avatar, buddy," Korra stops, taps her foot against the ground twice, and it lifts under his feet. Mako stumbles off of the jagged platform, eyebrows raised, as she shoves the broken pieces back into place as if she'd never moved them at all.

She smiles, laughing, too. "It would do you well to remember that." Korra sways slightly, curls of wind lifting her hair into her eyes, and she should be focused on her impending Airbending training, and not on this stubborn-sexy boy, but he's the one who moves towards her and sweeps his hands out into an arc of fire.

Palms face up, she breaks apart the swaths of his fire, and feels the flow of her chi reverse like a cool rush of her blood in her veins. Korra flips her hands in a circle and a jet of water careens from the skin at her belt. It collides with his chest and sends him flying backwards, skidding slightly on the ground.

"Is that all you got, city boy?" She calls back triumphantly, raising her arms with her fingers crooked to draw the water out of his clothes and back to her, but Mako lies immobile on his back.

Panic sets in for about five seconds, a jagged vice grip around her heart that threatens to slice it in half, and she's running over to him, knees bumping clumsily along the ground as she moves closer.

Mako blinks up at her, eyes narrowed under the bright rays of the sun, and her worry dissolves into annoyance, her lips poked out in a pout. "Just trying to catch my breath," he adds onto her thoughts, and she huffs, falling down on top of him.

"You idiot." Korra laughs, and wonders why the panic hasn't dissipated yet.

…

**fly with me, don't go missing**  
i'm not ready for you to leave just yet  
…

"Before you say anything," Mako starts as he slips into the room, but Korra already sees the way his clothes are neatly pressed and the bag slung over his shoulder, and needles press into her spine and in the corners of her eyes. "Korra, I can't just—"

"Did I do something wrong? Because, because I can fix it!"

Heavy, hot stones sit in the curve of her stomach, because Korra has never settled with this feeling she has now, that she isn't good enough. Her entire life has been a chronicle of excellence, surpassing standards and brimming with confidence. But the fact that Mako is leaving strikes her with a sudden fear of mediocrity, and she feels herself scraping at the bottom of the barrel for reasons to keep him anchored here.

"No, Korra, it's not—"

"Is it because I won't sleep with you?" Mako's face reddens in circles on his cheeks and tinges the tips of his ears, and even though he shakes his head, she continues, "because I want to, I just don't think _Tenzin_ would appreciate it, and—do you know he _checks_ on me sometimes? In the middle of the night?" Frustration, for moments, but then panic returns to her voice. "If that's it, th-then, I don't know, I'll do _something_, we can do _something_."

And even she is blushing now, at her own thoughts, lips fumbling over one another to speak until Mako grips her forearms steadily. "Korra, it's not—_ahem_—that's not why I'm leaving."

Stupid, silly girl. It has been nearly an entire month since Bolin left, laughing nervously about being on his own, and she couldn't keep him here (she could barely _focus_ with him here). "…oh."

"There are a lot of things I left behind in Republic City, you know," he says quietly, and Korra nods dumbly, flexes her arms out of his grip. "And with your training and everything, you probably don't need me in your way, _distracting_ you, and—"

She's not sure what moves first, but she throws her arms around his neck, fingers clenching in his clothes and against the strap of his bag, and Mako catches her with surprisingly swift reflexes and very little noise, and he holds her so close she's sure her heart is beating against his ribcage and not her own.

"I'm not crying," she whispers into his neck, hot tears sliding down her cheeks and into her collar, "I just…love you a lot."

Mako laughs, and tips them over so she stands on the ground. Before she can even smear away her own messy tears, he drops his head down to kiss her, and she lets him. And she's miles away from who she once was, because she had once tried to hide her tears from everyone, including him.

Now he kisses her tears away, and wipes her face with rough but slow moving hands. Korra scrunches her face up for a moment in thought, tilts her head up with a pensive frown. "Stay for tonight," she says decisively, and she can see the decision wobble around in his mind before he nods.

…

**we'll be lovers, at last  
**fumbling and learning and loving  
…

Korra doesn't really _understand_ how people do this.

She is always so radiant with confidence, but when she pulls her shirt off she feels so vulnerable, rubbing her hands over her arms nervously and looking down at where she and Mako kneels in the center of her bed. It's so silent and awkward that she's not really sure what to do next, but Korra has _never_ not know what to do, never not been in charge of her own life.

Mako coughs, and she laces her fingers together slowly. "Korra…"

Hesitation sounds on his voice and panic rises in her throat, always there, always keeping her on her toes. So she pushes herself into his lap and fits their mouths together, tries to drown out her fears with kisses and lets her hands smooth over his skin. Mako braces her with his arms around her bare back, pushes her back gently until she is on her back, and Korra's heart beats in painful staccato until even kissing doesn't ease her nerves.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," he says, and she shakes her head.

"I want to! Unless you don't, then we don't have to." The utter dejection in her face must be visible, because Mako's brows draw up in concern and he fits himself back against her, lips covering hers in assurance. They move well enough in tandem with clothes, but Korra is the one who strips them bare and laughs, a tiny wisp of a chuckle, when Mako blushes between her legs.

It aches when he shifts, whenever he moves, and her teeth sink into her bottom lip as he pushes himself deeper, stretches her taut over him. Korra knows this is an experience she can't take back, even though she doesn't know much for enjoyment of it rather than the mechanics, but Mako offers her a kiss, soft and chaste, and something behind the ache in her core pulses with warmth and pleasure.

Korra folds herself into the rhythm that Mako starts slowly, with golden eyes fixed intently on her, and she anticipates plenty of practice the next time they meet.

…

**every single night ends the same  
**and i would do it again and again  
…

She wakes up startled and screaming, staring at the bulge of Tenzin's eyes as he simultaneously blushes of anger and embarrassment, yelling something at the top of his lungs as he backs out of the room. Korra bristles with blankets tugged up to her neck, and Mako ducks himself behind her as the door slides shut, and _he _is the one to laugh while Korra stares ahead, incredulous.

When she turns to look at him, he rolls onto his back, still laughing, and she huffs. "I can't wait 'til you're out of here," she snaps irritably, but a smile pulls on her lips, and when she shoves him towards the edge of the bed so he can gather his clothes, she thinks that all of the panic has disappeared. And Mako can sense it, as he untangles the sleeves of his shirt and drags his pants off of the floor.

He leans forward and kisses her on the cheek gently, and she tilts her head into his lips, drawing her shoulder up to her cheek. No, it's definitely not sex that keeps couples together—Korra feels herself frowning slightly as she rubs her thighs and feels that dull ache between her legs again—but there is certainly something to speak for the closeness that it gave them last night. And it feels like she has crammed something messy and misshapen into a gaping spot in her heart, makeshift and functional but ticking away.

Korra reaches down beside the bed, too, because she has to say goodbye, now, and for the first time, she thinks she is ready for this.

…

**notes** — this is my first time writing flat out makorra, so please be gentle, but i'd love to hear some critiques if you have any! a super special thanks to **bloodbenderamon** over on tumblr for reading this through for me! i jacked up the end, because it was kinda lacking.


End file.
